


Love Potion No. 999

by raendown



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 16:42:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12845274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: Just because he's not supposed to doesn't mean he's not going to. With results like these, how could he resist?





	Love Potion No. 999

Strictly speaking, Hashirama had actually forbade him from performing experiments in the kitchen. On the other hand Tobirama figured he was a grown man and he lived in the house too – for now – so he would do what he liked in whatever public room he wanted to. It wasn’t as though this one were a particularly dangerous experiment like that last one had been; there wasn’t even any acidic components and therefore no reason for Mito to nag either of them about the state of the antique kitchen table. As long as he was tidy about things and managed to clean up before Hashirama returned from where he had gone to meet with the head of the Nara clan then no one even had to know what he was up to.

He should have known just thinking that was practically begging for trouble of the worst sort. The pot on the stove was merrily bubbling away and he had only just lifted a flask to add the last reagent when the back door suddenly flew open and slammed against the wall. Instinct had him jumping, dropping the flask and reaching for the kunai holster he wasn’t even wearing at the moment.

“Where’s Hashirama?” Madara demanded. Tobirama growled at him.

“Fuck you,” he snarled back.

His flask, once filled with green liquid, was now splashed all across the kitchen counter and the stove top. Without enough to add to the rest of his concoction the entire experiment was rendered useless – and now he had a mess to clean up as well. None of this endeared him whatsoever to the man standing in the doorway, whose feet he laid the blame at.

“I’m not certain you could be more of an oaf even if you tried.”

“Oh stuff it, prissy-pants. Where’s your brother?”

“Not here,” Tobirama replied shortly.

“I gathered that,” Madara snapped back. “He doesn’t appear to be anywhere and his stupid useless secretary doesn’t seem to know where he went either.”

Dodging under the sink for a rag he could wipe up the spill with, Tobirama had to agree with that. “She _is_ rather useless.”

Before he could forget to, he made sure to turn off the stove. The last time he’d left it on he’d been trying to make soup and burned the broth to the bottom of the pot when he got distracted by reading his book instead. Hashirama tried to ban him from the kitchen altogether after that incident, although it worked about as well as the other ban had.

“Alright, well? Do you know where he is, then?”

“I do,” Tobirama admitted, petty smirk forming.

“And?”

“Why should I tell you? You’ll just bother him. Besides, you’ve ruined my experiment so I might as well entertain myself by frustrating you instead. I do so love to frustrate you.”

He sent the other man a mockingly coy look, enjoying the way his face scrunched up and his already black eyes seemed to darken even more. With his hair nearly bristling with indignation and arms flexing as his fingers clenched, Madara never looked more attractive than when he was angry. Tobirama _might_ have had some ulterior motives for picking so many fights with him all the time. The way he saw it, Madara would never so much as look at him as long as he bore the Senju name, so he might as well take his fun where he could get it.

“This is important, you asinine cad!”

“It probably seems so to your tiny brain. Unfortunately for you, I don’t care.” Not even trying to hide the smirk on his face, Tobirama bent down to search for another rag. The spill had spread out a lot farther than he thought.

“Could you just not be you for five damn minutes?” Madara demanded. “It _is_ important but I don’t see why I should have to prove that to you!”

“You know, I do believe I mentioned the fact that I don’t give a fuck?” Cleaning his mess was going by a lot faster with the older man here to amuse him. Tobirama was actually a little grateful he’d stopped by, although he certainly wouldn’t be admitting that out loud.

The sound of stomping footsteps drew his attention as he mopped up the last of his spill. Tossing the rags in to the sink, he looked to one side to see Madara there, getting in his personal space the way he always did once Tobirama really got him going. Mentioning how very little he actually minded the close proximity would likely result in him stopping this delightful habit, so Tobirama usually kept that little nugget of information to himself as well.

“Where. Is. He?” Madara growled each word as a separate sentence. Possibly his manner was supposed to be taken as intimidating. Tobirama just found it sexy. Already close together, their faces nearly touched when the younger man leaned down to emphasize his point.

“Go. To. Hell.”

“You are infuriating!” The other man exploded. “I need to speak to him and no one but you seems to know where he is!”

“I believe you are underestimating how little fucks I have to give, Madara. Do you know how many fucks I give about that? Negative six. _You_ owe _me_ fucks to give, that’s how little I care.”

“And I will gladly fuck you later if you just tell me where the – _shit_!”

Madara slapped a hand over his own mouth in shock at the same time Tobirama’s eyes blew wide. Both of them stared at each other in silence as they tried to process what had just happened as well as questioning whether or not it actually had.

Realizing how close they were standing, Madara reeled back with his arms wheeling in small circles. He could not have been more obvious about how awkward he felt and that more than anything told Tobirama something he never expected: he’d meant it. It was more than just a flippant insult gone wrong; it was a slip of the tongue, his true thoughts coming out when he hadn’t meant to let them.

“Interesting,” Tobirama purred. Madara scowled at him.

“You shut up. I said nothing. Nothing happened. Just…just tell me where you brother is or I swear–!”

“You swear what? That you’ll fuck me?”

“Ugh!” Madara scrunched his face up in anger again and a little thrill ran down Tobirama’s spine. If he could just get the man a little more angry…

“Tell me Madara, how do you picture it? I imagine you think enough of yourself to suppose I would bend over for you. One wonders if this is what you’re really thinking about when you glare at me during council meetings. Don’t think I don’t see you doing it.” With every sentence he slowly closed the distance between them again, a predatory look on his face.

Far from allowing himself to be cowed in to a corner, Madara straightened his spine and attempted to glare him down again. “I wouldn’t be so crass,” he insisted.

“No?” Stepping in to the man’s personal space the way the other had done to him, Tobirama raised one eyebrow. “Go on then. Look me in the eye and tell me you’re not imagining me bent over that table as we speak right now.”

At first Madara did nothing and they hung suspended together for what felt like an eternity contained in just a few seconds. Then it appeared as though the Uchiha had been pushed passed his breaking point as he lifted himself up the couple of inches that separated them and crashed their mouths together. Tobirama met him with a pleased groan.

Teeth sank in to his bottom lip and he heard Madara growl around his flesh, “Fuck. You.”

“As you like,” he gasped in answer, hands reaching around to take double fistfuls of his companion’s ass.

Groping turned in to tugging and then they were grinding against each other as their mouths waged what should have been the gentlest war they’d fought between them. It wasn’t. In between kisses they bit and licked and sucked with no intention towards tenderness. Fingers scrabbled at each other’s chests, pulling clothing until the cloth tore and the skin underneath was scratched red.

Feet tangled as they stumbled back against the counter, Madara pressing a thigh in between Tobirama’s legs and grinding it upwards to elicit a groan that echoed throughout the room. Before either of them knew it they were both shirtless, pants hanging low and hands roaming freely. Madara arched his back as nails scraped down his spine and Tobirama hissed when teeth sank in at the juncture of his neck. Their hips moved in tandem with a rocking motion that was more enthusiasm than finesse.

Their mouths had only just crashed back together in yet another violent kiss when the door swung open for the second time and both of them froze, staring each other in the eye with matching sparks of panic. Slowly, they turned their heads to see Hashirama standing in the open doorway. His face was rapidly draining of color and the cheerful smile he’d been wearing was already long gone. Slowly, his eyes narrowed, his mouth turned down, and his brows furrowed to complete a murderous expression.

“I’ll just give you two a moment to compose yourselves,” Hashirama said in a deadly quiet voice, backing out the door and pulling it closed behind himself. He pointed one finger at Madara as he did so. “And when I get back _you_ will still be here. I have some _questions_ for you.”

One narrowed eye watched them through the crack until the door shut completely with a muted click. Both of the men in the kitchen turned to look at each other again, taking in their appearance as it might look to an observer: half naked, swollen lips, and bloody imprints of teeth in some interesting places. There was certainly no question as to what they’d been doing.

“I suggest you run,” Tobirama advised. Madara nodded frantically.

“Pick this up later?”

“ _Run_.”

Grabbing his shirt, Madara took off towards the front door in the hope that Hashirama was still at the back. Tobirama leaned back against the counter and watched him go with a mildly dreamy expression. Even when Hashirama stormed back in to the room and shouted with anger at finding Madara gone, his expression didn’t change.

“Why always in the kitchen!?” His brother yelled, passing by to chase after the escaping Uchiha.  

Tobirama laughed as he turned around to finish cleaning up the mess his experiment had made. Possibly getting banned from the kitchen again had definitely been worth it this time. Today’s experiment may not have answered the question he’d meant it to but the results were still some of the best he’d ever achieved.


End file.
